


The Scent of a City

by merihobu



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Gondolin's best kept secret, I will stop with the puns now, Idril gets shit done, The Trans-Echoriath (Sewage) Pipeline, this story is full of shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merihobu/pseuds/merihobu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The Silmarillion</em> states that in Nan Dungortheb, “the thin waters that spilled from Ered Gorgoroth were defiled, and perilous to drink”. This pollution is attributed to Ungoliant and her offspring, who “[filled] the ravines with [their] deadly gloom”, but: what if it had come from… elsewhere?</p>
<p>This may or may not qualify as crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent of a City

**Author's Note:**

> Map of Beleriand, with irrelevant parts cropped out:
> 
>  
> 
> Source: theonering.com

Idril strode into the room, her expression uncharacteristically grim. Behind her, Ecthelion followed.

“Father, we have a problem.”

Turgon looked up from the documents he had been perusing. “Itarillë! What a lovely surprise! But”—he glanced out of the window, and then at the clock—“It is your day off, and I was not expecting you till dinnertime. What are you doing inside, on such a beautiful day?”

Idril pursed her lips. “Yes, summer is at its finest, isn’t it? What with the blue skies, the abundant sunshine, and the verdancy of our valley… together with the unrelenting heat and oppressive humidity, not to mention complete lack of any breeze. Which brings us to our problem.”

She turned towards Ecthelion, who stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“My lord, Gondolin has flourished in safety for the better part of two centuries. Her prosperity is reflected in her unusually high birth rate, and, subsequently, the… volume of waste produced by her rapidly expanding population.” He paused before meeting Turgon’s expectant gaze squarely. “Surely, my lord, you must be bothered by the smell.”

Turgon sighed, his suspicions confirmed. “Yes, very much so, as are many others,” he said, indicating the large sheaf of papers before him. “Indeed, it is a most pervasive issue. As someone with actual expertise in this field, perhaps you have come to offer a solution? Or should we simply pray for rain?”

“Rain would indeed bring temporary relief, but…” Ecthelion's tone was grim. “I have just finished checking our facilities with my fellow plumbers, and we found all septic tanks and drain fields to be nearing full capacity. Our sewage system is in danger of becoming completely overloaded. To put it bluntly, the time will soon come when it will take no more shit.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line before continuing. “We must somehow flush away the excess, before all hell—among other things—breaks loose and the white streets of our city take on a less pristine hue.”

Turgon suppressed a groan as he felt the familiar pressure build up between his eyes. “And how do you propose we go about doing that? We cannot simply discharge it downriver—it would damage the water supplies of numerous settlements, not least among them the kingdom of Doriath. If Thingol gets wind of it—if they trace it back to us… no, diplomatic nightmare aside, I will not have our location thus sniffed out, not now when things have otherwise been going so swimmingly. Besides, I hardly think Ulmo would appreciate us polluting his beloved waterways.” He frowned. “Of all the visions he gave me of our city, this was certainly not among them.”

Ecthelion shifted uncomfortably as Idril set off towards a nearby shelf. “Well, perhaps he himself did not see this coming. Perhaps he initially trusted us not to raise such a stink. Or perhaps—as the lady Idril suggests—he is aware of our problem, but believes us capable of formulating our own ingenious solution. One which would allow us to evade various environmental and political predicaments… not to to mention moral ones. In short, a dumping ground that has already been irrevocably contaminated beforehand.”

Turgon raised an eyebrow at his daughter, who now held a large map of Beleriand in her arms. Unfurling it over the table, she began to explain: “It all began as a frivolous whim, during that awful heat wave last week. Overcome by a moment of vindictiveness, I found myself wishing our situation on various localities, namely those I would most enjoy seeing hit by a veritable shitstorm.” For a moment she looked much younger, with her embarrassed smile and slight blush.

“While I came up with more candidates than I am proud to admit, their forerunner was the lair of Morgoth, besmircher of all things fair.” The pink vanished from her cheeks as her tone became businesslike; one finger jabbed at Thangorodrim, while another sought out Gondolin. “Fortunately or unfortunately, Morgoth is well out of our reach from here. However—” the finger over Gondolin moved further east, over the Encircling Mountains and the Pass of Anach, till it hovered over Nan Dungortheb and began circling the area. “We are not entirely lacking in unpleasant neighbours closer to home. Rumour has it that Ungoliant has populated the valleys of Ered Gorgoroth with her spawn, and the region is well and properly defiled with their webs and leavings. Nothing fair is purported to grow in that dark and evil place.” A mischievous twinkle appeared in her eyes. “Barren as the land is, perhaps it could do with some extra fertiliser?”

Turgon stared at his daughter, unable to help the small burst of pride welling up in him amidst his incredulity. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I… I am not sure what to make of this. On one hand, I cannot imagine anything more ludicrous. On the other, there is an undeniably brilliant edge to it. Although…” He tapped an accusing finger at the Encircling Mountains. “We do have a rather formidable obstacle in our way. A pipeline through the mountains, is that what you envision? It will certainly be the largest-scale operation we have undertaken since our move here. I cannot imagine that it would be easy. Or fast.”

“All the more reason to start now,” said Ecthelion briskly, producing a thick stack of papers from behind his back. “I have here various detailed plans and sketches from some of my best plumbers. There is much to think about: routes to chart, for one, and pumps, because of the altitude, not to mention special valves to prevent any potential unwanted spider immigration. Purely as a preemptive measure, that is: our goal is to make the pipe virtually unnoticeable, so that no one will be able to trace the actual source of pollution. I mean, spider invasion aside, think of the scandal that would arise: it would be such a stain on our otherwise illustrious history."

Turgon waved his hand. “Oh, if need be, I am sure Pengolodh could come up with something.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- A huge thank you to tehta for the thorough beta and encouraging comments.
> 
> \- This story was inspired by a series of fascinating comments elsewhere on the internet, about sewage treatment and why one should never flush tampons. It is also inspired by a scene from tehta’s _Flawed and Fair_ , where Ecthelion compares the smell of Ered Gorgoroth to that of the sewers under Gondolin.
> 
> \- Incidentally, the plumber!Ecthelion idea is also from F&F.
> 
> \- Speaking of Ecthelion, sorry for his super old and tired pun. I could not resist!
> 
> \- If actual humans managed to build the freaking White Pass and Yukon Route, then surely the Elves could handle a pipeline snaking through the mountains? After all, it is almost the same thing. Almost.
> 
> \- I know next to nothing about plumbing, so please let me know if I portrayed something unrealistically. Beyond the general implausibility of the situation, that is.
> 
> \- As usual, all concrit is very welcome, as is feedback in general.
> 
> \- Thanks for reading! I hope this was not too ridiculous.


End file.
